Except for the things I want them to find, that is.
Laughing to myself, I get to work, starting in the tiny bathroom at the back of the cabin and scrubbing every surface once before I go back and do it again for good measure. When I’m finished, I go out to the main room and look around. It was supposed to be a living room slash bedroom when I bought the place but the only things I needed in here were the twin bed in the corner and the shackles in the middle of the floor where I kept Veronica secure for so many months. She is the one thing in all of this that I actually felt a little bit bad about. I mean, she didn’t really have anything to do with the club until I brought her into this whole mess and after talking to her, I realized that she was exactly the kind of girl I would have gone for before the Devils stole my life from me. But it doesn’t matter. I can never go back and now, neither can she. Shaking my head, I push away the memories of all our talks in this room and get back to work, scrubbing the shackles and the hook embedded in the floor before moving on to the windowsills and the walls. The mattress was replaced after Veronica was released so I don’t have to worry about them finding anything there either. Once I’m done in the main room, I duck into the small kitchen and scrub everything there before going back to my box on the back porch and grabbing the photos I brought along.
It’s been so goddamn easy to mess with these guys and this is just going to be another level on top of all of that. They have no fucking idea how deep this goes and how many situations I’ve had my fingers in, influencing others when I needed to and keeping the Devils distracted with dumb bullshit when I was making big moves. It’s actually comical how clueless they are.
Or maybe I’m just that good.
Back in the main room, I tape the photos to the wall and hang the white mask I always wore around Veronica on a nail before taking a step back and looking at it with a smile. The best part of all this is that while they may have suspicions about my involvement in things, they’ll never find any concrete proof and that will drive them crazy - Streak especially. My mind drifts to the night I snuck up to the clubhouse and my smile grows when I think about Rowan. I’ve learned quite a lot about her since that night and the more I learn, the more intrigued I am. I’ve honestly been toying with the idea of adding her to the plan but things have been working so well that I don’t want to mess anything up.
God, I want her, though.
The sound of gravel crunching grabs my attention and I walk over to the window, pulling the curtain back just enough to peek outside. A smile stretches across my face as Storm’s truck rolls up the narrow driveway to the front door. “Perfect.”
I watch them park and climb out of the cab before I slip out onto the back porch and quietly close the door behind me with my heart hammering in my chest and adrenaline pumping through my veins. Fuck, this is everything. One of my favorite things about this whole chase has been that they have no clue who they are looking for and it’s been so easy for me to blend into a crowd and watch them. But this, this fear and excitement about the small possibility that I could get caught is even sweeter than I imagined.
“Let’s check out inside,” Storm says and I nod eagerly. A part of me can’t wait for them to find the present I left inside but there is another part of me that wishes I could take them out, here and now. Storm is one of the names on my list and I can’t tell you how many nights I’ve laid awake, imagining wrapping my hands around his throat and watching the life drain from his eyes but deep down, I know it’s not enough. He needs to bleed, metaphorically and physically, before I take his life. But how convenient would it be if they were to find me out here and I had no other choice but to kill them? Then again, it wouldn’t be too hard to attach another set of shackles to the hook in the floor and take my time exacting my revenge on them.
“We should do a perimeter check.”
“No,” I hiss, shaking my head at Fuzz’s suggestion as I turn to look at the forest around me. There really is nowhere for me to hide right now and this can’t end yet. It’s too fucking soon and they haven’t hurt enough yet.
“Dude, look around,” Storm shoots back with a sigh. “No one is here and we haven’t even seen another car for the last twenty minutes. This place is fucking remote.”
“And what if he’s here?”
He is, I think to myself, smiling.
God, they don’t have a fucking clue.
“This place is abandoned. He’s gotten all he can from it so let’s stop wasting our time and just see if there is anything inside.”
“Fine, whatever,” Fuzz growls and I turn, peeking in the window as they open the front door and step inside. Their gazes are immediately drawn to the artwork on the wall and I feel damn near giddy as I watch their matching scowls.
“What the fuck is this?” Storm murmurs, walking up to the photo of Clay, Smith’s brother… or should I say, late brother. He rips it off the wall and stares at the image, a range of emotions flicking across his face, before he passes it to Fuzz. “What the fuck is this supposed to mean?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Fuzz answers, his eyes snapping up to the other photos on the wall. There is a photo from each of their relationships on the wall, something that they each went through with their old ladies like the charity ball Carly attended with Chance where her mother sold her to Damian Griggs or the day Biche shot up Henn and Kady’s wedding. The fun part will be watching them try to figure out which events I had a part in and which ones I didn’t. Or maybe they’ll just assume I was involved in all of them and go crazy trying to protect the ones they love from the big bad wolf. Either way works for me. I glance down at the photo in my hand, the only one I saved from the wall and smile at the sight of Rowan propped up on Streak’s desk with her head thrown back and her eyes closed.
This one is just for me.
“It’s the mask Veronica talked about,” Storm says, drawing my attention back to them as he flicks the mask with his fingers in irritation. I can’t stop smiling as I move away from the window and quietly slip off of the porch. They don’t have much more to look through and I want to be well hidden by the time they come back out so I grab my box and jog into the trees. There is a particularly thick section of brush far enough away from the back door to avoid detection and I slip behind it. It’s quiet for a few moments and I grit my teeth, wondering what the hell they’re doing in there and wishing I had stayed on the back porch when Storm yanks open the back door. My breath catches in my throat as I watch him scan the forest around me and my heart hammers in my chest. Finally, he shakes his head.
“There is nothing here,” he calls to Fuzz before shutting the door and I laugh to myself quietly. Stupid. Just fucking stupid. Although watching him struggle to figure this out makes me realize I’m glad I didn’t act impulsively and just murder both of them right here because seeing their frustration is so much more fun for me. And shouldn’t I have a little fun with this? Besides, they deserve any and all pain I can dish out to them.
I wait a few more minutes before I hear the truck doors slam and I watch them drive away from the cabin, thinking of the next step in the plan. The action is about to ramp up and I am so going to enjoy ripping apart everything they hold dear.